


safe

by Nyxierose



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, First Dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 00:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16294592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxierose/pseuds/Nyxierose
Summary: "For one damn time, she gets to be normal. Just an ordinary young woman, out in public with the first person she's had those kinds of thoughts about."





	safe

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by 2x02, because I have THOUGHTS about how that date went. (And a couple new headcanons I developed while writing this fic, but whatev.) I have so many feelings about these babes. So. Many.

If anyone else did this, it would probably be the last thing they did.

Lorna has not survived by being reckless or trusting too easily, and she had people issues even before her mutation showed up. In her experience, if someone is kind to her, it usually means they want something. More often than not, something she's not inclined to offer. And yet…

And yet Marcos Diaz, who she has known for roughly a month, has blown through all her defenses like a drunk bull in a china shop and she can't even try to hate him for it.

With anyone else, Lorna thinks, the ulterior motives would've come out by now. This, their first actual date, three days after what she hasn't quite admitted was her first kiss with anyone ever, is going fairly well by what passes for her standards. Apart from the fact that Marcos shares her inability to half-ass _anything_ and just ordered, for no apparent reason, the most expensive alcohol on the menu.

There is no end of surprises with this man, but again, something in his haunting warm eyes keeps her from running.

"I'm not worth this," she mutters. She doesn't feel the need to pick a fight, and she'll drink anything she's not paying for. But god, tonight is a lot.

Bad enough she's in a dress. Modest, even more so than her usual preferences, but still shimmering green and just a little bit twirly. Not _quite_ a dress one wears with the intent of it being removed by other hands, but damned close and having the desired effect. Marcos can't take his eyes off her, in the most respectful way she could imagine. Like she's the prettiest thing he's ever seen and all he wants is to be there alongside her and-

"You are," he replies, like it should be perfectly obvious.

"I will hold this over your head for the rest of your life. Just warning you."

"I'm okay with that."

He's quiet around her. Strange thing to realize in this too-fancy restaurant, way too nice a background for this occasion, but comforting. He doesn't take up more space than he has to, he just… _is_ , somehow. Exists in the places she didn't know needed human warmth until she met him.

God, one really good makeout session and one slightly awkward date - in that order, because life is short - and she's already lowkey wondering what their future children will look like. She's pathetic.

"Lorna?"

"Yeah?"

"We can… we can _not_ do this again. If you're uncomfortable. I didn't mean to-"

"You wanted to show off a little. It's cute, I don't mind. But yeah, never again. I am not worth this and I am not letting you try to convince me otherwise."

He looks like a kicked puppy - he kinda _is_ a kicked puppy most of the time, and she wants to take away that part of him because it breaks her heart - but lets it go. "So what would you do, if you'd gotten to plan tonight?"

"I don't plan things. But if I had to… up on the roof back home. There's a way to get up there, I need to show you that anyways. Me, you, some blankets, a bottle of something strong, and the stars. Less… less people. That's what I'd change."

"I'm sorry. I should've asked, I… I'm sorry, Lorna."

She laughs. She can't help it. "This is the fanciest night of my life and you're apologizing for it. I love you."

Three little words, so heavy and damning. Too soon? She doesn't know, but she's been thinking them since the moment she met this man. Since the night a couple days after he moved in when the power randomly went out and he used his power to light candles. Since last week when she was having a very bad brain day and he didn't ask questions, just let her curl up next to him on the couch and cry on his shoulder. Since… thirty-three days Marcos has been in her life, and already she has hundreds of reasons she could love him.

"Can we talk about that later?" he says after a long silence. "Once we get home?"

"Yeah. Later is good."

The rest of the date goes well. Lorna can't remember being this instinctively comfortable around another human being, and her tension about the rest of the scenario lessens as the evening goes on. She suspects that fancy champagne gets one drunk faster than the regular kind, and that's probably helping, but she's not questioning this temporary beauty in her life. For one damn time, she gets to be _normal_. Not the scary chick with a power to match her personality, not a de facto leader in a madhouse, not Trauma Girl. Just an ordinary young woman, out in public with the first person she's had those kinds of thoughts about.

That, too, is an issue. Her mutation developed right alongside her breasts, and adolescent hormones mixed badly with bipolar. The mere idea of a partner, at any point in what she expects will be a short life, has never been an option for her. Besides, she's seen enough relationship drama the six months she's been down here herding cats in Atlanta, there have already been two messy breakups she got stuck diffusing, she has _no_ desire to go there. Ever.

But this wouldn't be casual, she knows. This relationship, if she lets it become one, will transform and anchor her. It already has, but if she lets down her defenses and lets him in, in all the ways…

Oh, this could save her. Or destroy her. Or both. Time will tell. She wants to find out.

They get home safely, and she doesn't let go of his hand. She ought to, some little voice in the back of her head says - she should run, before he figures out what he's getting into and realizes he's not _that_ kind of masochist. But she doesn't want to. What she wants is to kiss him, in the hallway right in front of her bedroom door, and so she does.

The lightshow thing from three days ago doesn't happen again. Or if it does, at lower volume in the background, Lorna is too distracted to notice. Too lost in taste, touch, gentleness overwhelming. Marcos is clear about what he wants, yet there's a caution in his embrace, his mouth on hers and his hands in her hair. If she wanted to, she could break away and no damage would be done. He is not capable of hurting her, nor would he ever want to, and-

"I'm not sure what I'm doing," she murmurs against his skin. "And I might've… I don't…"

"It's okay. Whatever you want, babe."

"I want you to stay. But I'm not sure about… things. If that's okay."

"We can do that."

She suspects she will come to value many traits about him over the years ahead, but right now his adaptability is particularly lovely. The relative quiet of her room is likely an incentive, but she has seen how quickly he's learned to work around the chaos of the Underground. Most new people take longer - hell, she herself sometimes has to take a step back and process everything - but Marcos dove right in and made himself useful and likable and-

"Get me out of this dress," she mutters.

"What, you're not gonna show off?"

Well, she wasn't _planning_ on it, but flicking her hand to undo the metal zipper is satisfying. Almost as much as the warmth in his eyes as he watches the dress fall to the floor, as she is more exposed than she's ever been in front of another person. Safe, she repeats as she wraps her arms around him and weighs her options. She is absolutely safe with this one.

"I just want you to hold me," Lorna breathes. "You're warm. I like warm."

He laughs - she feels it more than hears it and she decides she likes that. "Side effect of my…"

"I run cold. So you being a human space heater is convenient."

"Whatever makes you happy, Lorna."

She breaks the embrace and throws herself onto the bed, expecting he'll pause and shed at least some of his layers, but he joins her a moment later - much more cautiously, as in everything - still fully dressed apart from his shoes. Damn.

"You're really gonna sleep in all of that?"

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"You won't. I'll say something if-"

Marcos is back on his feet again, and oh there is something in his movements that worries her. His fingers shake as he unbuttons his jacket, then his shirt. The last time he did this must've gone very badly, Lorna can't help but think, and now doesn't seem like the right time to ask but she will soon. In a couple days, probably, unless-

"Are you okay?"

So kind, even when he himself is in visibly bad condition, and she's not sure what to do with that but she thinks she loves it. "I'm not the one on the edge of a panic attack right now," she murmurs, hoping her tone is appropriate enough. "I didn't mean to push you… shit… you can leave if you…"

"This is good for me." He's down to boxers and undershirt now, and this is still the most of his skin she's seen and she has some questions about a few scars but again now is not the time. "Have to move forward _somehow_."

"And here I thought you actually liked me," she laughs.

"I do. A lot. This is just…"

"I know. I'm not her, Marcos. I'm not gonna use you. Promise."

Some part of that calms him enough to let him get down on the mattress, and it is so easy for her to shift her position and curl up around him. She could get used to this, the fact that he is so much warmer with less layers between them and the way his hands rest on her back and the feeling that she will never be safer than she is when she's with this man and-

"Lorna?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm happy I found you."

"Is this… is this at all weird for you like it is for me?"

"Different weird, but yeah. You're safe."

She kisses him, hard, because he's the first person who's ever used that word about her and it makes her heart do something new and strange and beautiful. "No I'm not."

"Yeah you are."

She lets it go. One more thing she'd never do with anyone else. "You still gonna be here when I wake up?"

He pulls her just the tiniest bit closer. "I'll be here the rest of our lives, if you'd let me."

"I think I'd like that."


End file.
